Tested By The Prince And The Duke (Choose Your Path)
The Apothecary, Chapter 8: "The Prisoner"
****This story works only in a mobile or desktop browser, not in the Substack App.****
The Apothecary is an interactive story in which your choices determine your fate. Don’t read the sections in order. At the end of each section, make your choice and click on the corresponding link to be taken to your next section. Will you choose to save the duke from a fairy curse, or will you aid the prince in a darker quest?
Start Here: Uncertain Loyalties
(continued from Chapter 7, find all chapters here)
Trapped in the dark passages of the castle, you have a choice to make. Will you go with the prince, who promises to save you, or stay and wait for the duke?
If you go with the prince now, you’ll have to brew a dangerous potion for him. The duke warned you that brewing such a potion could have a terrible effect on you.
If you refuse to go with the prince, the duke will soon return and take you to a place in the castle where you will brew an antidote for him. But you’re not sure he’ll let you leave once you’re finished.
“I hear someone in the passageway,” the prince says. “If you want to escape the duke, you must come with me now.”
You start to speak, but the prince interrupts you. “We have no time for questions. You must trust me. Come with me now or I leave without you.”
Who do you trust?
Go with the prince and brew his potion? Go to Dark Assignment.
Wait for the duke so that you can brew his antidote? Go to Numinous Task.
Fungus
The corpse’s crown must be one of the mushrooms that grow over the remains of fallen soldiers. Such mushrooms grow in a ring, like a crown.
“I believe a corpse’s crown is a mushroom.” Your voice betrays your uncertainty.
“But you’re aren’t sure?” The prince tilts his face so the sunlight streaming through the windows lends him a golden glow that transfixes you. “I expect you to find out…
“By asking the queen.”
The sunlight seems suddenly blinding. “The queen?” you gasp.
Go to Treacherous Test.
Pity
The queen shrinks back in her throne. “An illness?” She pulls her veil over her face. “And my son thinks it wise to bring you here to infect my court?”
The prince gives you a displeased look and steps toward the throne. “You have no need for concern. I’ve made sure this apothecary has no signs of illness.”
“I know the queen is skilled at brewing antidotes,” you hurry to say. “I would like to do the same.”
The queen leans forward to peer through her veil. The jewels that stud her veil catch the light and make her seem a glimmering ghost. “Who told you I brew antidotes?”
The prince gives you a warning look. You speak with a shaking voice: “I only meant that I know you brew a great many potions, so you must know how to help me brew an antidote for the villagers.”
“I see,” the queen responds, toying with a jewel on her sleeve as if bored now. “What guidance can I give?”
You must give a wise response.
“I need to know about an ingredient common to fairy potions like the kind you brew for the duke.” Go to Mystic.
“I need to understand an ancient phrase that is beyond human insight.” Go to Cryptic.
Dark Assignment
“I’ll go with you,” you tell the prince, “if you’ll promise to return me to my apothecary.”
“In good time,” the prince says, still holding out his hand. “After you brew a potion for me.”
You put your hand in his. His strong grip makes you gasp.
The prince guides you from the dark passageways into a sunlit hall where you feel you can finally breathe again. The light turns the prince’s fine clothes iridescent, so that he seems to belong somewhere far more ephemeral than a stone castle.
As he pulls you along, you say, “You want me to brew a potion that will help you return to the fairy realm.”
His hand still clasped around yours, he turns to you with a surprised smile. “Yes, and I hope you won’t let me down.”
The chill of the stone passage still clings to you, as does your dread. But you’re determined not to show it. You lift your chin, and he smiles his approval.
The prince peers into the shadowed arches at the edges of the hall and then leans close to say, “You’re brave to do this, but now I need your cunning.”
You tighten in alarm, wondering what he’ll ask of you next. Even so, you crave the thrill of his nearness, the buzz of his voice in your ear. You lean closer.
“The potion requires a corpse’s crown, taken from a battlefield,” the prince murmurs. You frown in confusion. A corpse’s crown?
“I’ve traveled to the wastes from the wars of the past,” the prince says, “and I’ve brought back two items that might answer the description. An apothecary like you surely knows which is the correct ingredient.”
The corpse’s crown is a mushroom? Go to Fungus.
The corpse’s crown is a skull? Go to Mortis.
Numinous Task
“The duke warned me that you want me to brew a dangerous potion,” you tell the prince. “I’m more interested in helping the duke fight the queen’s curse.”
The prince sets his jaw. “I see the duke isn’t the only one under a spell. He has a gift for using pity to ensnare people.” He shoots a look of alarm toward the passageway. “I must go. But remember, I offered to help you.”
The prince vanishes into the dark passageway just before the duke sweeps through the doorway. “I’ve sent away the guards,” the duke tells you, “so no one will know where I’m taking you.”
You shiver with dread. But you tell yourself the duke only wants to protect you, and this is the best way to ensure the prince and the queen won’t interfere as you make an antidote for him.
He holds out his hand. “Come with me.”
You hesitate, but allow him to pull you through the passageway.
The passageway grows darker. No torches light the way now. In the darkness, you know only the feel of stone under your shoes and the warmth of the duke’s hand in yours.
“Don’t be afraid,” he says. “I’m with you.”
Finally, you emerge into a disused smithy. A layer of dust covers all, but a fire blazes in the forge. This is where you’ll brew the antidote for the duke.
“You’ll be safe here,” the duke says. “And warm. Come close to the fire.” He guides you toward the forge and pulls your cloak tight around you. “No one uses this smithy anymore. We won’t be interrupted here.”
For a moment, you aren’t sure what he means. But you…
Let him wrap his arms around you as if to warm you? Go to Seduced.
Turn away to search for the ingredients you need? Go to Studious.
Vanity
The queen lets out a laugh that sounds to your ears like ice breaking. “How charming. But a human can never hope to rival the beauty of a fairy queen.”
“Especially not one as beautiful as you,” the prince tells the queen, his voice syrupy. Clearly, he has practice flattering her. You wonder how much care he puts into charming you and whether he’s ever sincere.
But then he turns to give you a wicked grin of triumph, and your suspicion melts into desire. If you can brew this potion for him, he’ll be forever grateful to you. And then what kind of attention will he give you?
“Perhaps I shouldn’t hope to rival your beauty,” you demur, “but there is a way to turn my hair the same lovely silver as yours…”
Your next words must be convincing.
“It requires an ingredient common to fairy potions like the kind you brew for the duke.” Go to Mystic.
“It requires understanding an ancient phrase that is beyond human insight.” Go to Cryptic.
Mortis
A corpse’s crown is a skull from a warrior fallen in battle. What else crowns a corpse but its own skull?
“I believe a corpse’s crown is a skull.” Your voice betrays your uncertainty.
“But you’re aren’t sure?” The prince tilts his face so the sunlight streaming through the windows lends him a golden glow that transfixes you. “I expect you to find out…
“By asking the queen.”
The sunlight seems suddenly blinding. “The queen?” you gasp.
Go to Treacherous Test.
Muse
“The moonlight hare’s fur is brilliant white,” you tell the duke. “Just like your beautiful horse. Maybe they could be friends?” You give him a teasing smile.
The duke considers a moment, as if this is an important plan. “Yes, I must meet this magical hare. And if I approve, he will be made royal convoy to the stables.”
Your laughter surprises you. It seems to surprise the duke too. He leans close, so that his arm is pressing against yours.
Go to Whispered Scheme.
Cryptic
“I’ve often found,” the queen says, “that humans lack the knowledge and cunning of those of us born into the infinitely superior fairy realm. Tell me this ancient phrase, and I will explain it to you.”
“Thank you, Queen,” you say. “I would be grateful if you would tell me what a corpse’s crown is.”
The queen stops toying with her jewels and sits frozen for a moment. Does she suspect you?
But it seems she was only lost in thought because now she shakes her head a little, as if to clear it, and says, “It is a ring of mushrooms that grows where the dead lay.”
A thrill goes through you. You know the ingredient for the prince’s potion! You glance at him and he meets your gaze with a look of admiration that makes you suddenly weak.
The queen rises from her throne, her gown a glimmering waterfall of jewels. “I hope your work will bring some small glory to our kingdom,” she says, “or that it will at least bring no shame.”
You’ve been dismissed. The prince swoops to take you from the throne room before you can say or do anything that might diminish your victory. He draws you close to his side as you pass from the room.
The prince leads you through a labyrinth of passages until you come to a disused smithy. A layer of dust covers all, but a fire blazes in the forge. You look to him in confusion.
He’s been silent all the way from the throne room, and when you tried to speak to him, he only said, “Later.” Now, he turns to grip both your hands in his. “I knew she wouldn’t suspect you. Now you can brew the potion for me.”
You draw closer to him, basking in his delight with you. His hands slide around your waist. “No one uses this smithy anymore. You won’t be interrupted here.”
For a moment, you aren’t sure what he means. You lean your forehead against his chest to hide your confusion and the heat that must be coloring your cheeks. Maybe he only means that you can brew his potion without interference.
But when you lift your face to read his gaze, he tilts his down to meet yours, and you’re suddenly kissing him. He presses into you as if he means to drink deeply from some hidden store. The heat from the forge blazes at your back.
But then he draws back just enough to murmur, “I need that potion. And then… later…”
Heat surges through you again. He slips a scrap of paper into your hand. “The ingredients are in the corner. You know which to use.”
He slides away from you and turns to leave. “I’ll come back later to check your progress,” he says over his shoulder. “For now, I must make sure the duke doesn’t find you and interfere.”
Go to Corpse’s Crown.
Intruder
The duke turns and leaves, closing the heavy door behind him. You hear the clunk of a bolt securing the door. To keep you safe, or to keep you prisoner?
You have only moments to consider before the bolts slides back and the door eases open again. A familiar figure slips into the smithy.
The prince’s eyes gleam in the firelight. “I followed you in the dark,” he says. “You weren’t as quiet as you should have been. It was only too easy.”
Your heart beats fast. “I told you, I plan to brew the antidote for the duke. And he’ll be back any moment to check on me.”
The prince ignores you. “So this is where the duke plans to keep you prisoner.” He gives you a wicked smile. “I wonder for how long? If I were you, I’d start to make myself at home here.”
Your heart falls. The prince seems entertained by your low mood. “My brother always did like to collect things and put them into cages,” he says. “Rabbits, mice–any little creature he could catch. And now he has a new pet to keep.”
He spots the shelf of potion ingredients and darts forward to take hold of the crystals you stole from the queen’s garden. He thrusts the crystals into his pocket and comes out with a scrap of paper. “Brew this potion, and I’ll give the crystals back to you for the duke’s antidote. And don’t try to be crafty. I plan to watch you to make sure you follow the instructions correctly.”
Anger burns under your skin. But you have no choice. You’ll have to brew this potion for the prince before you can help the duke.
“Tell me which ingredients you’ll need,” the prince says, “and I’ll bring them to you.”
You look at the paper again. There’s only one ingredient you aren’t sure about. “A corpse’s crown, taken from a battlefield.” What could that mean?
Some half-remembered knowledge tickles at the back of your mind. You’re sure you’ve read this phrase before–corpse’s crown. Does it mean a skull? A type of mushroom?
The prince is waiting for your instructions. “Well?” he huffs. “What is a corpse’s crown?”
You don’t know. You’ll have to figure it out later. You tell him to bring back both a skull and some mushrooms.
Ages seem to go by before the door opens again and the duke reappears, looking none the stronger for having rested.
Tell him the prince stole the crystals? Go to Envy.
Tell him it will take longer than you thought to brew the antidote? Go to Doubt.
Tend
“You shouldn’t be in a damp place like this.” You take the duke’s hand and pull him closer to the fire. The snaking line of the fairy curse seems to pulse at his throat. He winces.
“The fire,” the duke says in a pained voice. “It’s as if the curse hates the bright light. The same thing happens in sunlight as well.” He edges back from the fire, and his mood seems worse now. You have a feeling that this is your last chance to lift the duke’s mood so that he can find a way to help you.
What did the prince tell you about the duke just a short while ago, here in this room? The prince said it to taunt you and yet it reveled something about the duke…
You try one last time to encourage the duke.
Tell him that when he feels better, you’ll take him to meet the moonlight hare you caught? Go to Muse.
Remind him of the day you first met him in the woods? Go to Memory.
Pride
The queen toys with a jewel on her sleeve. “I’m sure you would, but it requires a talent that few possess.”
The prince steps forward. “I can assure you this apothecary shows much promise,” he says, and bestows a smile on you.
“And just what kind of potion would you like to brew?” the queen asks, matching the prince’s smile with her own haughty one.
You must give a wise response.
“A potion that would make me as beautiful as you.” Go to Vanity.
“A potion that would allow me a glimpse of your beautiful fairy realm.” Go Vantage.
Envy
“My brother was here?” the duke says, frowning in confusion. He goes to the shelf and sees that the crystals are indeed gone. “I don’t understand.”
“He followed us in the dark,” you explain. “He came in as soon as you left. He says he won’t give the crystals back until I brew a potion for him.”
The duke studies you silently. The mark of the fairy curse shadows the edge of his jaw, the side of his neck. It seems to dance in the flickering firelight. “Tell me the truth,” the duke says. “Are you in league with my brother against me?”
His suspicion unnerves you. Clearly, his sickness darkens his thoughts. You reply, “I only wanted you to protect me from the prince. But he found me here.”
His expression softens. “I wasn’t careful enough. This is my fault. I knew he was eager to make you brew his potion for him.” The duke lets out an anguished sigh. “My brother is too cunning for me.”
You can’t help but notice he shifts away from you.
You shiver, despite the warmth of the fire. “I can still brew your antidote. But I’m afraid to make a potion for the prince. I’m afraid it will have some terrible effect on me.”
“I’m afraid, too.” The duke’s shoulders sink. He seems to be giving way to despair. You need his help to figure out a way to evade the prince, but you’ll have to call him out of his pain and fear first.
Offer him some of the fairy fruit? Go to Taste.
Bring him closer to the fire? Go to Tend.
Memory
“We helped each other then,” you say, “just as we will help each other now.”
The duke offers a weak smile. “I was trapped by my brother then, just as I am trapped by my brother now.”
You shake your head. “We can find a way out of this situation. I’m sure of it.”
You touch the duke’s arm, trying to call him back to you, but he seems lost in shadowed thought. He touches the mark on his neck, as if hoping to relieve the pain, but it doesn’t seem to help.
“I can’t see any way to get the crystals back except to brew the prince’s potion,” you say.
“Perhaps you can brew the wrong potion?” the duke offers. “At least then you wouldn’t suffer whatever ill effects the correct potion is meant to have on the one who brews it.”
An idea comes to you: neither you nor the prince knows if the potion’s recipe calls for a skull or a mushroom. The corpse’s crown is a mystery to you both. You could simply use the wrong ingredient, and the prince would never know.
But which is the wrong corpse’s crown? You’re about to ask the duke if he has ever heard the name when he lets out a groan of pain.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m not well. I must go and rest, but if you want to leave this place, I won’t stop you.”
But you’re determined to brew the antidote for the duke, and that means getting the crystals from the prince. If only you could remember which ingredient is the true corpse’s crown…
Go to Corpse’s Crown.
Studious
After all, you have work to do. Isn’t that why the duke brought you here?
The duke indicates a shelf near the forge. “The ingredients you need are there.” You think you hear disappointment in his tone, as if he wanted you to linger near him a while longer.
“I’ll come back later to check on your progress,” he says. “For now, I need to rest before this sickness overtakes me.”
Go to Intruder.
Whispered Scheme
The duke finds your hand underneath your cloak and squeezes it. “I admire your courage. I shouldn’t lose heart. We must think of some way to outsmart my brother.”
“I can’t see any way to get the crystals back except to brew the prince’s potion,” you say. “But perhaps I can brew the wrong potion. I’ll tell him I won’t give him the potion until he gives me the crystals. By the time he takes the potion, it’ll be too late for him to realize we’ve tricked him.”
“That could work…” The duke presses closer to you, and you lean into his warmth, hoping it will help you keep your courage. “Except that he will likely watch you brew the potion. Will he know if you add the wrong ingredients?”
Your heart falls. “I already told him which ingredients I need to use. He’ll notice if I make a change. Except–” A spark of inspiration lights in your mind. “There is one ingredient that neither of us is sure about. The corpse’s crown.”
The duke’s eyes widen in surprise. “The corpse’s crown? But I know what that is. My father and I stumbled upon it when he took me to view the old battlefields. It’s a type of mushroom. They grow in rings where fallen soldiers lay.”
“Then I’ll brew the potion for the prince, but I’ll use the skull instead of the mushroom,” you say. “He won’t know I’m using the wrong ingredient, and I’ll be safe from whatever terrible effects the real potion would have on me if I brewed it.”
In your excitement, you lean into the duke and wrap your arms around his shoulders. Only after a moment does he return your embrace, and you think you understand why.
“What will happen to the prince if he drinks the false potion?” you ask the duke.
He shakes his head. Neither of you knows. And part of you doesn’t want to take the risk. Yet the duke has warned you that brewing the correct potion for the prince could have a dangerous effect on you.
Go to Corpse’s Crown.
Taste
You take a piece of fairy fruit from the shelf and hold it out to the duke. It shines brightly in the firelight, a cheerful color, promising health. “Eat this,” you say. “Perhaps it will make you feel better.”
The duke eyes the fruit with alarm. “It’s what the fairy queen eats. I’ve seen its juices staining her gown.” Reluctantly, he takes the fruit from you.
You give him an encouraging smile and he bites into the fruit. His expression brightens. “Here,” he says, holding out the fruit to you, “have some.”
You mean to refuse him, but the scent of the fruit is too intoxicating. The duke draws you close and holds the fruit while you take bite. The taste is sweet and sharp.
You almost forget that you’re hunkered in an old forge and not lingering in the queen’s garden. The duke must feel the same way–his shoulders lift. His mood seems lighter.
Go to Whispered Scheme.
Doubt
“But why haven’t you started?” the duke asks. “The cauldron I left for you is still empty.”
Still hoping to spare him any more anxiety, you say, “I… must prepare the ingredients first. It takes time.”
The duke studies you silently. The mark of the fairy curse shadows the edge of his jaw, the side of his neck. It seems to dance in the flickering firelight. “Tell me the truth,” the duke says. “Are you in league with my brother against me?”
His suspicion unnerves you. Clearly, his sickness darkens his thoughts. You reply, “I only wanted you to protect me from the prince. But he found me here.”
His expression softens. “I wasn’t careful enough. This is my fault. I knew he was eager to make you brew his potion for him.”
The duke lets out an anguished sigh. “My brother is too cunning for me.” You can’t help but notice he shifts away from you.
You shiver, despite the warmth of the fire. “I can still brew your antidote. But I’m afraid to make a potion for the prince. I’m afraid it will have some terrible effect on me.”
“I’m afraid, too.” The duke’s shoulders sink. He seems to be giving way to despair. You need his help to figure out a way to evade the prince, but you’ll have to call him out of his pain and fear first.
Offer him some of the fairy fruit? Go to Taste.
Bring him closer to the fire? Go to Tend.
Treacherous Test
The prince delivers you to the throne room, where the queen sits waiting, bright as a jewel, in her fairy gown. Her beauty is not like the prince’s, not like a spill of sunlight that draws you in and makes you grateful to be shone on.
Her beauty is like a frost, glimmering and hypnotic–and dangerous.
You wish you were back in the sunlit hall, close against the prince’s side, sheltered in his warm glow. You can still feel his voice buzz in your ear: “Remember, she must not suspect that you mean to help me escape to the fairy realm.”
The queen’s sharp gaze pierces you as you approach. “You are a local apothecary?” she asks, a note of surprise in her voice. “My son the prince tells me you’ve come to ask for my wisdom in potion-making.”
With a humble bow, you answer, “It’s said that there is no greater potion-maker than you, Queen.”
She smiles at your flattery, obviously pleased.
You turn just slightly to catch sight of the prince, who gives you an encouraging nod. He has already warned you that only by saying the right thing will you find out which ingredient to use in his potion, whether the mushroom or the skull. You must choose your words very carefully.
“You understand,” the queen says icily, “that I am not in the habit of sharing my most guarded potion-making secrets with commoners. But I also would not have the kingdom’s apothecaries taint our reputation. So what is it you would ask me?”
Carefully, you say…
“A strange illness is spreading among that townspeople, and I need your advice on which ingredient will help them.” Go to Pity.
“I would like to brew a potion as skillful as those that our wise queen makes.” Go to Pride.
Mystic
The queen’s eyes flash. You realize too late that you aren’t supposed to know about the duke’s curse, or the queen’s antidote. But the queen slowly smiles and asks, “What ingredient do you mean?”
“A corpse’s crown,” you answer, and the prince goes suddenly very still. “But I don’t know what that means? Is it a type of mushroom?”
“A corpse’s crown.” The queen gazes into the distance as if considering. “No, not a mushroom. A skull.”
A thrill goes through you. You know the ingredient for the prince’s potion! You glance at him, but he’s frowning in thought. Does he trust the queen’s answer, or does he think she’s lying?
The queen rises from her throne, her gown a glimmering waterfall of jewels. “I hope your work will bring some small glory to our kingdom,” she says, “or that it will at least bring no shame.”
You’ve been dismissed. The prince takes you from the throne room, and you can’t help but notice that he doesn’t smile, and that his arm is rigid beneath yours.
The prince leads you through a labyrinth of passages until you come to a disused smithy. A layer of dust covers all, but a fire blazes in the forge. You look to him in confusion.
He’s been silent all the way from the throne room, and when you tried to speak to him, he only said, “Later.” Now, he pushes you away, almost roughly, and turns so that the firelight seems to make him glow with anger.
“You should not have mentioned fairy potions to the queen,” he says gruffly. “She’ll wonder what we are up to. She knows I would give anything to return to the fairy realm.”
“Do you think she suspects that I’m brewing a potion for you?” you ask, as a terrible weight settles over you.
The prince slowly shakes his head. “I don’t know. I couldn’t tell if her answer was genuine. You must do your best to brew the potion the way you see fit. No one uses this smithy anymore. You won’t be interrupted here.”
He thrusts a scrap of paper into your hands. “Burn this when you are finished.”
You read the instructions for making the prince’s strange potion. You’re suddenly unsure which ingredient you should use, the mushroom or the skull. The paper trembles in your hand.
The prince chose you for this task for you daring and cunning. Haven’t you proven yourself? “I’m sure I can make the potion correctly,” you tell him.
You draw near to him and reach for his shoulder. But he turns away. “The ingredients are there in the corner. I’ll return later to check on your progress. I hope I won’t be disappointed.”
He sweeps out of the smithy before you can respond. He’s clearly not pleased with you. But once you’ve finished the potion, that will change. You hope.
Go to Corpse’s Crown.
Seduced
You lean your forehead against the duke’s chest to hide your confusion and the heat that must be coloring your cheeks. Maybe he only means that you can brew his antidote without interference.
But when you lift your face to read his gaze, he tilts his down to meet yours, and you’re suddenly kissing him. He presses into you as if he means to drink deeply from some hidden store. The heat from the forge blazes at your back.
But then he draws back just enough to murmur, “I need that antidote. And then… later…”
Heat surges through you again. But he steps away to indicate a shelf near the forge. “The ingredients you need are there. I’ll come back later to check on your progress. For now, I need to rest before this sickness overtakes me.”
Go to Intruder.
Vantage
The queen’s smile sours. She leans forward, her gaze sharp with suspicion. “And who put you up to this task?” She turns her icy attention to the prince. “Do you think you can fool me by bringing a sweet, flattering apothecary before me?”
The prince dashes forward to press the queen’s hand. “You mistake my intention,” he says. “I only meant to honor you by bringing you an apothecary who admires you. I thought she could be of some use to you.”
The prince glances back at you, and you freeze in alarm. Clearly, he’s improvising, but what should you do?
“Perhaps the queen could allow me to dry herbs for her potions,” you say.
The queen studies you for a long moment. Her mouth twists in a way that worries you.
But then she says, “A little assistant to perform the tedious tasks. Someone I could train to be like me. Not that a human could ever hope to rival the majesty of someone from the fairy realm.”
You aren’t sure how to respond, so you only bow again and try to look like a useful, grateful servant. “No doubt you desire to make a potion that would make you more beautiful, like your queen?” she asks you.
“Perhaps I shouldn’t hope to rival your beauty,” you demur, “but there is a way to turn my hair the same lovely silver as yours…”
Your next words must be convincing.
“It requires an ingredient common to fairy potions like the kind you brew for the duke.” Go to Mystic.
“It requires understanding an ancient phrase that is beyond human insight.” Go to Cryptic.
Corpse’s Crown
You consider the ingredients, the skull and the mushroom. If you use the correct one, you’ll help the prince return to the fairy realm. But is that what you want?
If you use the wrong ingredient, you don’t know what will happen to the prince when he drinks the potion. Can you take that risk?
And what will happen to you once you’ve brewed the prince’s potion? The duke said it would change you, but the prince seems to have no qualms.
You must choose carefully. Which will you use to brew the prince’s potion?
The skull?
The mushroom?
Remember your choice for the next chapter…
By the time the prince returns, the potion is finished.
He takes the vial from you, all of his attention on the strange liquid roiling within. He hardly seems to notice you at all. A sudden surge of anxiety goes through you. “Now you’ll take me back to my apothecary?” you ask.
He doesn’t take his eyes from the potion. “No,” he says softly, and dread settles over you. “The queen has asked to see you again.”
End of Chapter 8.
Return to the beginning? Go to Start Here: Uncertain Loyalties.
Come back soon for Chapter 9: The Betrothal. The queen commands you to perform a task that leads you to discover that one of the brothers is secretly betrothed.